"None of your business," Val snapped out.

"It is very much my business." The commanding tones came out in full. "You are young, and I understand that up until this year you have had little or no contact with the dragon community. Your uncle Malcolm has a lot to answer for. I can advise you, guide you. I have had three children."

And a rotten job you did with all of them, Val wanted to say. She limited herself to a somewhat terse, "So?"

The tone turned pleading. "You'll need help. I can give it. Have you got an obstetrician?"

"That is also none of your business," Val said.

"That means you don't," Melinda deduced, with devastating clarity. Val winced. "You need a dragon physician. A human won't know the signs of a healthy dragon fetus. Are you more comfortable with a male or female doctor? I know the names of the best in the clans. I can get any of them to take you as a patient. Valerie, I want to have contact with my grandchild. Let me meet you. We can discuss the future."

"My future is not your concern," Val said, wanting desperately to hang up. "I've got to go now."

"Valerie, this is not the end of our conversation," Melinda said. Now she sounded like a mother. "I am in town, taking care of my daughter. I will call you again to arrange a meeting."

"I'll think about it," Val said, feeling as if she had already lost the battle.

The voice continued on as though she had not spoken. "Have a place in mind by the time I call you again. You can have your brother present to protect you, or any number of people you wish, if you don't mind having your personal life discussed in front of them."

"I don't need anyone to protect me," Val said. Her cheeks were hot with anger. She felt something brush her head. She looked up and realized she had grown tall enough to touch the ceiling. For the last few months, since she had learned her heritage, she had grown in size when she was under stress, the way that Griffen broke out in scales on his skin. She had to get her feelings under control.